Desert Rain
by Slayer2003
Summary: "It would be rude of me to refuse that which is offered freely." A darker take on Elijah and Elena post 4x18. Now complete.
1. Chapter 1

AN: Well, I'm not usually one for writing smut but I just couldn't ignore the ON FIRE chemistry between these two. There is only the barest bones of a plot and a little character insight, but mostly them getting it on.

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Elijah sits in his study, brooding darkly over the swath of books haphazardly strewn over his desk. The small leather jewellery box containing the cure weighs heavily in his jacket pocket. For hours, he's been scanning dusty tomes in search of information about Silas and the cure - he is in the position of power now and knowledge will be his best ally. He scans a paragraph, mentally deciphering ancient script as he goes, but he comes to the end of the page and finds that nothing will stick in his mind. Only her face swims in his head, Katherine's, as she begs him for trust and forgiveness. He slams the book closed, suddenly frustrated and in need of a drink. He doesn't indulge often because he prefers his mind to be as sharp as possible, but tonight he sorely needs something.

His footsteps echo loudly as he descends the marble staircase, all alone in Klaus's mansion in Mystic Falls now his family have all gone their separate ways again. Just as he is topping of his single-malt with some warm blood, a confident knock sounds at the door.

"Elena," he nods by way of greeting. "I didn't expect to see you again so soon." Why was she here? As far as he knew, only Katherine knew that he had the cure. Unless whatever scheme she'd concocted called for cluing in someone else.

"I needed to talk to you," she says, without preamble.

"By all means," he responds, stepping back a quarter-turn to clear her path.

She rocks back impatiently on her heels. "You have to invite me in. I haven't been here since I turned."

"Of course," he says, nodding. "My apologies. Please come in."

She steps through the door and crosses her arms, eyes flickering around the grand entranceway, following him as he leads her into the sitting room.

"May I offer you a drink?" he asks, gesturing towards his own waiting glass at the bar. "I found myself in need of something a little stronger today."

She nods her assent. "Thanks."

"So," he asks, regarding her closely, "to what do I owe this pleasure?"

"I hear you have something I want. Or don't want, I suppose."

"The cure," he smirks. "So much trouble for a little vial of blood."

"You have no reason to keep it," she says accusingly, fidgeting in her seat.

"Ah, but you are wrong about that, Elena. There are many ways I could use this. I could grant my sister her greatest wish. I could free Katerina from the spectre of my brother. I could give it to Niklaus, to do as he pleases. I could _kill_ Niklaus, although Silas is probably more worrisome," he muses. "I'm torn, truly."

"I'm low on the list then," she states.

"You do not want to become human again," he says simply. "I respect your wishes."

She exhales and seems to compose herself. "You might be the only one."

"However, today's deceit was not necessary. I hope you are not making a habit of this."

"It's nothing personal, Elijah. You know I respect you," Elena swallows as she thinks of Kol in ashes. Clearly, Klaus has not filled in Elijah on that particular caper just yet. A discussion for another day. "How long did it take you to figure out I wasn't Katherine?"

He smirks. "The moment I tasted you. You are much... sweeter than Katerina."

"You kissed me anyway."

"Forgive me - I was only trying to call your bluff. You didn't seem to object."

"No," she says, "I don't." In a flash she is straddling him on the couch, her long tresses tickling the sides of his face as she leans over him.

"Elena…" he growls a warning even as his hands rest lightly on her hips. "If you are trying to ensure that I will not use the cure on you, you have my word. I require nothing in exchange."

She makes a frustrated tutting noise. "Ugh, Elijah! Always a gentleman. Isn't it exhausting? Don't worry, I thought about this even when I was human." He is still as a statue as she presses a soft kiss below his ear, still considering his next move. Elena has changed. She is no longer the innocent, human sacrifice. She has blossomed into the doppelgänger, powerful and calculating like Katerina and Tatia before her. He meant what he said about her compassion - perhaps one day she will chose to feel again. Maybe he can help her feel a little, today.

That's settled, then.

"It would be rude of me to refuse that which is offered freely," he says finally.

He pulls her lips to his once more and kisses her chastely, letting her set the pace. He groans as she opens her mouth as their tongues touch, tentatively at first, then harder. Her fingers tangle tightly in her hair as she squirms against his hardening erection.

Elena's hands smooth down the lapels of his jacket and pause as she feels the small capsule hidden in his breast pocket. She yelps as he catches her wrist, bones snapping in his grasp. "I am quite finished being manipulated by the Petrova women, for today at least." She cries out as he releases her wrist. "Do not," he warns, "try that again."

"I'm not here to manipulate you, Elijah. I got what I came for. Now I just want to _fuck_ you." He raises an eyebrow at her crass language. If nothing else, emotionless Elena is brutally honest.

Elena gracelessly tumbles sideways into the couch as Elijah flashes away from her, faster than the eye can see, no doubt to secure his prize somewhere safe. She exhales a shaky, frustrated breath as she awaits his return.

"Strip," she hears a rumble from the doorway behind her.

"Excuse me?" she asks, whirling around. Elijah is leaning against the door frame, sans-suit jacket, eyes combing over her appraisingly.

"Clearly, I'm calling the shots tonight, Elena. Strip or get out; the choice is yours."

She hesitates for a split second but gets up and circles the couch so she can face him before shucking her jacket, then her boots. Without a hint of embarrassment or shame, she peels off tank top and her jeans, leaving her in a matching set of black lace. Elijah unbuttons his own shirt without looking away as she unclasps her bra, revealing her breasts to him. Her dusky nipples pebble in the cool air. It is difficult to avoid comparisons with Katherine or Tatia. Elena is certainly no less beautiful than either of them. Her breasts are slightly smaller, maybe, but perkier. Elijah appreciates the variation on the theme, in any case. He longs to sink his fangs into the warm skin of her breasts and lap at her wounds as she arches beneath him. All in good time.

Elena slides her hands down her sides and hooks her thumbs into her panties.

"Ah," he chides, "allow me." In two long strides he impossibly close to her and she lets him firmly manoeuvre her so that she is leaning over the back of the couch, facing away from him.

She mewls as he runs his hands appreciatively down her soft skin, pausing to palm her breasts and then continuing down her flat stomach. One hand dips into her panties and slips easily between between her folds. "Oh god," she breathes, pushing her hips back against him for more stimulation, but Elijah deftly avoids her and withdraws his hand from between her legs.

"So wet for me, sweet Elena…" he murmurs into her ear and kisses a searing trail down her neck.

She gasps as his teeth nick her shoulder and his mouth pulls gently at the pinpricks of blood. He tears away her panties and one hand slides down her backside and he slides a finger into her wet cunt, avoiding her sensitive clit altogether. He brings his hand to his lips and samples her musk. "Would you like a taste?" he asks, offering her his slick digit. He groans headily as she sucks his finger into her mouth, tongue swirling around it, promising better uses for her pretty mouth. His cock pulses uncomfortably in his trousers, no longer happy to be ignored.

Elijah deftly undoes his zipper and pushes her back farther over the couch so that her ass waves in the air for him, pussy glistening invitingly. He wets the head of his cock by running it teasingly down her slit, brushing teasingly against her clit. She calls out his name, desperately.

"What's that, Elena?" he pauses, weeping cock in hand.

"_Please_," she entreats him.

"As you wish," he breathes, pushing his cock deep inside her. They moan simultaneously as Elijah pauses, admiring their slick, joined bodies. Elena, legs quivering, relishes in the feeling of fullness, the warmth of Elijah's body behind her, just out of sight but a comforting presence nonetheless.

After a moment he begins to move, pulling his cock almost all the way out and sinking back into her tight heat. His eyes roll back into his head and unbidden, his fingers tangle tightly into her hair and pull her throat to his mouth so that she is standing, back pressed to his front, hips canted where they are joined. "More," she commands, wriggling her hips against his.

He pushes her back down over the couch and slams into her in earnest. She meets him, thrust for thrust, as her hips slam back against his. He snakes one hand around her front to pinch her nipple roughly and the other to firmly rub her clit, once, twice, before she cries out loudly and convulses against him, pussy spasming around around him, nails digging into his arms wrapped around her body. He does not let up his punishing rhythm as she eggs him on, chanting his name. He groans loudly as sensation zips down his spine. Just as he is about to come he sinks his teeth into her shoulder, stars dancing in his vision as he drains her and fills her all at once.

As he slips out of her she sinks down to the ground, propped up against the back of the couch, eyes closed, mouth open, rivulets of blood drying on her breasts and shoulders. He sinks down beside her and gathers her in his arms, kissing the blood off of her as she sits bonelessly.

"Well, lovely Elena, was it all you hoped for?" he sweeps her tresses from her shoulder and kisses her there, impossibly tenderly. He wonders if finally, this Petrova might be his. Tatia, who loved his brother, Katerina, who loves only herself. It is a fool's hope, he knows, but this is his curse.

As the haze of pleasure clears from Elena's brain another familiar feeling creeps in - anxiety, as though the floodgates threaten to burst. If she could, she might cry. Yet she is trapped in the cage of Elijah's embrace and does not want to leave. He is whispering in her ear in a language that she doesn't understand. He is the tall glass of water set in front of a man dying of thirst, a pleasure and relief that can only be known by those who have experienced the worst pain and need.

This should never happen again, she knows, not if she wants to remain composed and carefree. "This won't be the last of us," he tells her, as though reading her thoughts.

After a time she extricates her limbs from his and gathers her clothing. He sees her to the door and kisses her again, hard and possessive before she goes. One day soon he will learn of her ultimate betrayal, Kol's death, and punish her or kill her. Neither thought is entirely unwelcome.

When she turns up at his door the next night he only smiles knowingly and invites her in.

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Please leave some feedback if you enjoyed!


	2. Chapter 2

**Well, I wasn't anticipating continuing this but I think there is still a little story left to tell with maybe one or two more parts after this. This will no longer follow canon after 4x18. Enjoy!**

**Part 2**

The next night Elena's knock on the door is much more quiet. She isn't quite sure what to expect. Will he laugh and slam the door in her face, or will he yank her inside and pin her up against the wall? Or, worst of all, will he jab his fist through her chest and rip out her heart? It's a dangerous game she is playing, but also an exhilarating one. Last night's tryst with Elijah is difficult to fit into Elena's mental calculus of the eldest Original. She knows the air of finesse and politeness is a facade covering a dark, dangerous interior. Yet, Elijah no longer seems predictable to her. She hadn't seriously been expecting him to fall for her little seduction, but he had once again called her bluff, and she had enjoyed it. She slept in her car last night, unwilling to go back to the boarding house and face the inevitable drama that would ensue with Stefan and Damon once they caught Elijah's scent on her. So she's back again, just as Elijah predicted.

"Elena," he smiles politely as the dark oak door swings open, "Come in."

He looks relaxed, he shirtsleeves rolled up to his elbow and top button undone. No homicidal rage; she is safe for another night it seems. "I was just about to have a bite to eat. Would you care to join me?"

She shrugs and shoves her hands into her pockets. She can smell blood in the next room, hear the gentle breath of a human. "Alright."

In the sitting room where they fucked only hours ago a pale redhead is sitting listlessly on the couch, a disoriented smile on her face and dark red oozing slowly from wounds in her neck.

Elena raises her eyebrows. "I didn't think fresh was your style," she tells him.

Elijah settles on the couch next to the girl. "One tires of blood bags. Besides, I cause them no undue suffering." He sweeps the girl's hair from her neck and whispers something into her ear before resuming his feed.

Elena sees only the barest hint of Elijah's vampire features as he turns back to face her. "Come," he says, gesturing her towards him. He scoots away from the girl and leaves a space between their bodies for Elena. She sits down and looks to Elijah, who nods. Elena laps gently at the source, inhaling deeply. It _has _been a while since she ate. She latches onto the girl more vigorously, shoulders relaxing as the hot, coppery blood flows down her throat.

Elena gasps mid-pull as she feels Elijah's warm breath tickle her shoulder, followed by a sweep of his tongue. Blood trickles down her chin as he lets the girl go and tilts her chin back to allow Elijah more access to the crook of her neck. His hand, settled on her lap, slides down the inside of her thigh. His mouth ascends the column of her throat to lap the blood off her chin.

"I'm a messy eater," she says lazily, unapologetically.

Elijah makes an amused humming noise and kisses the corner of her mouth. "You are indeed. What do you say we take a bath?"

Elena raises an eyebrow. "Do I get a massage?"

Elijah smirks. "Maybe if you're good." He gets up and compels the human girl who scurries quickly out the door, and then extends a hand to Elena. She takes it and follows him up the grand staircase.

Elijah lets them into one of the bedrooms. It's decorated lavishly with dark furniture and obviously priceless works of art, a smattering of papers and sketches laid over a table.

"Is this Klaus' room?" Elena asks, looking around suspiciously.

"Indeed," Elijah replies, standing close behind her. "I haven't had the chance to set up my own room here, and Niklaus has the best bathtub. Besides, I rather relish the though of desecrating his bed with you," he says, voice low.

"You promised me a bath," she smiles coyly over her shoulder at him and wanders into the bathroom. Klaus' tub is marble and built into the wall, even more luxurious than Damon's.

"Later, then," Elijah says, striding in after and turning the taps.

Elena shucks her clothes as the water fills the tub, cognizant of Elijah's eyes tracking her movements. Completely naked, she pads over to him and starts unbuttoning his shirt. He permits this and slides his hands confidently down her back, pulling her firmly against him. Elena stands up on her tiptoes and leans up towards him, searching his eyes with hers for something, she isn't sure what. She sees the dark lust and it excites her. Instead of dwelling on it she kisses him, and this time it's a slow burn and all she can hear is the sound of the water cascading into the tub and her own breath as she exhales hotly into him.

He is the one to pull away. "The water," he reminds her, and moves to turn off the tap. Then he shucks his pants, cock jutting proudly, and slips into the tub. She follows him and settles in against his chest, sighing as her tense muscles dissolve in the near-scalding water.

As promised, he kneads her shoulders firmly and for a time they sit in silence. "Not that I mind," Elena says finally, "but what exactly is it we're doing? What's with the show of hedonism, Elijah?"

She feels Elijah shrug behind her and hisses as he works a particularly tense knot. "I'm enjoying your company, Elena. You are free to go or stay as you please. Do I need to have an ulterior motive?"

"Aren't you worried that you're _taking advantage of me_?" she says, voice dripping with sarcasm. "That I would never do this if my emotions were on? That I'm betraying Damon?"

"I know what it's like to turn off your humanity, Elena. It doesn't make you a different person; it only reveals another facet of yourself. The things you do now, the things you say and think, you had those same thoughts and desires with your humanity on. There is darkness in each of us. You are simply being honest about yours right now, and I find that refreshing."

"Because Katherine was a liar," Elena states.

"Yes," Elijah, without anger.

"How do you know I'm not also a liar?"

"Because you are not Katherine, Elena. Do not forget that."

"I won't if you won't," she retorts.

"Let's be frank, Elena," he says, unwilling to engage that particular subject. "You're using me. You want to avoid the Salvatores. You want to gain my favor to ensure I won't use the cure on you. But most of all you want to _feel,_" she yelps as his fingers tweak her nipple.

"And you're using me," she breathes, "to distract yourself from Katherine's betrayal, because being _good _and _loyal_ has gotten you nothing and nowhere."

He hums darkly behind her, his hand snaking around her front to reach between her legs. She yelps as he slides a finger abruptly inside her, his palm brushing her throbbing clit. "Elijah," she moans, thrusting wantonly into his hand. He wraps his other arm around her waist and holds her firmly to him as he slides a second finger inside her, water rippling as he pumps gently, not enough to get her off. Her eyes scrunch closed as she focus on the pleasure, only her perfect mouth chanting for _please, please, more_. Finally he gives in and works her clit in earnest as she pushes back against him, feet braced on the end of the tub, thighs shaking. She comes with his name on her lips, hot tendrils of pleasure making the world go blissfully blank for a few brief moments.

As her vision returns she is suddenly aware of his cock pressing insistently into her back. With her vampire speed she whirls around to straddle him and kisses him hard. Water sloshes over the side of the tub. He groans into her mouth as her slick heat grinds against him. "Why don't we take this somewhere more comfortable?" he says, nudging her legs to lock around his waist. She gives a delighted little whoop as he lifts them both out of the water and walks them, both dripping, out of the bathroom. They tumble onto Klaus' bed, Elena below him, her ankles still hooked around his waist. She presses her body up into his, relishing the feel of skin on skin and his reassuring weight above her.

"Naughty Elena…" he breathes, inhaling her scent deeply. "Whatever will I do with you?"

"Fuck me," she says simply.

He acquiesces, sliding smoothly into her and driving in and out firmly, not too fast, but completely. He sinks his teeth into her breast and laps messily at the wound. When she opens her eyes again she looks up at his face and gasps at the sight of his face, eyes dark, monster in full show. She gasps and only wraps her legs more tightly around him.

She wakes up much later wrapped firmly around Elijah who appears to be asleep, eerily long intervals of time passing between his breaths. She gets up as quietly as possible and pads into the bathroom, futilely trying to run a man's comb she find through her tangled waves. She retrieves her phone out of the pocket of her jeans and checks it. Dozens of missed calls and text messages, mostly from Damon, some from Stefan, some from Rebekah in New Orleans with Klaus, no doubt wondering what has become of her partner in crime.

She hasn't been back to the boarding house in nearly three days and hasn't slept properly in nearly as many. She really needs to find her own place, she muses, tired of being the object of Damon's long-suffering glances. She would consider shacking up with Elijah as long as their easy truce continues, but it's only a matter of time before he finds out about Kol and she wants to be nowhere near here when he does. Would he listen to her explain? Kol _was _going to chop of Jeremy's arm and probably even kill him, though Elena could surely have incapacitated him instead of spurring Jeremy to drive the white oak stake through his heart.

Better to leave town, then. Mystic Falls has become more trouble than it's worth. She relishes the thought of leaving behind the memories and the hurt and gorging herself till she's blind with pleasure out in the wide world.

She picks up her purse and heels off the floor and pauses for one last glance at Elijah's sleeping form. Maybe it could have been right for them, too, in another time and another place under different circumstances. Elijah is the only person she knows cares about her who doesn't simultaneously want to change her. He accepts her, just as she is. Maybe her curse is that she loves too easily. Never mind that, now.

Elena pads as quietly as she can down the stairs, no thought in mind now other than stealing a car and driving as long and far away as possible.

"Well, well, well, naughty Elena sneaking home before dawn. Do you think so little of my brother?"

Elena squeaks as a hand catches her in an iron grip, yanking her around to face him. "Klaus," she says, voice wavering. Even without her emotions she is capable of distress, like a frightened animal.

"Evidently you do," he continues, "he wouldn't be fucking you if he knew about _that which you have neglected to tell him._ And in my bed? Really?"

"Klaus, please, you have to let me go – "

_"_Neglected to tell me _what_, Elena?" Elijah has appeared in the doorframe, evidently woken by the commotion. His hair is rumpled and his face is drawn into a grimace. "Though I suppose I shouldn't be surprised at this point."

Elena looks back and forth between the two brothers, mind racing. She wonders if Elijah will kill her or just let Klaus shove the cure down her throat and take her away to be his blood bag for all eternity.

"Go on, Elena," Klaus shoves her roughly down onto the couch and angles his body to block her escape.

Elena takes a deep breath. "Kol's dead. Jeremy- we killed him - but he was going to chop off Jeremy's arms!" she protests, looking desperately at Elijah.

Elijah has heard nothing past _Kol's dead_. The words reverberate in his head. No wonder he has been unable to reach Kol of late. Another brother gone. Kol, for all his snark and scheming was once just a little boy with whom he clashed wooden swords in the village. A shot of white hot rage courses through him. Every tender feeling he's ever had for Elena, disappeared. How could she come here and lay with him in a lover's embrace knowing what she's done? The doppelgängers, they are all the same -

Elena screams as Elijah lunges at her and squeezes her eyes shut, genuinely expecting her last moment. There is a noise like a thunderclap and Elena opens her eyes to see the two brothers tumble across the room, locked together like battering rams. Klaus summons his hybrid strength and slams Elijah against the opposite wall, glass shattering as picture frames shudder in his wake. "No!" Klaus commands, snarling, warning Elijah to stay back. "I know you want to kill her, brother, as I do, but you know I have a vital interest in our little doppelgänger, at least for now," he says, standing firmly between them.

Elijah's chest heaves as he looks at them, fists clenched. "Why are you here, Niklaus? I will not let you waste the cure on _her_," he spits.

"Kol was right about Silas, Elijah," Klaus starts, recounting the tale of his run-in with the ancient immortal. Elena watches them closely as they converse. For once, Klaus seems submissive in the wake of his older brother despite the fact Klaus has just made a hole in the plaster with Elijah. And yet, Elijah listens carefully to Klaus, content to negotiate. "No doubt you do not wish to see hell unleashed on Earth," Klaus finishes.

"You want the cure in order to kill Silas," Elijah states, considerably calmer, though he refuses to meet Elena's eyes.

"Yes," Klaus agrees, "though if I can do without using it I have a better use for it," he says, gesturing towards Elena. "Perhaps Katerina might oblige. I honestly can't decide."

For a moment they seem to have a standoff, eyes locked, as if communicating without words. Finally, Elijah's shoulders slump. "Very well. You have a better chance of defeating Silas than I." Elijah flashes out of the room for a moment and then returns and presses the vial into Klaus' hand.

Klaus nods his thanks. "Keep an eye on her," he gestures towards Elena, and then he is gone.

Elijah exhales deeply and slides down onto the ground, eyes closed in frustration. Elena glances towards the door. "Don't even think about moving, Elena."

"Elijah, I'm _sorry_," she blurts out. "Kol was going to hurt Jeremy. I couldn't let that happen. I had to protect him, you understand."

"But you failed," Elijah says spitefully.

"Yes, I failed," Elena says exasperatedly. "Jeremy's dead, Kol's dead, everyone's dead," she says in a voice that says _I don't care_. "Why not add one more body to the pile?" she challenges him. "You know you want to kill me. Or won't you because mean Klaus will come and spank you if you do?"

Elijah growls at the provocation and a hand closes suddenly around her throat. "How can you not care, Elena? I was content to let you drift in your indifference, but now you dishonor your brother's memory. I want you to _feel_ the pain you've caused me Elena, not just because I want my revenge, but because you cannot go on like this -"

"Elijah, no!" she protests, twisting away from him as hard as she can once she realizes his intentions.

He catches her face in his hand and leans in as though he is going to kiss her. "Look at me, Elena," he says gently, and she has no choice but to comply.

"Please, Elijah, don't -"

"Turn it on, Elena," he commands, "turn your humanity back on, and leave it on."

Elena goes limp in his grasp and takes in a deep, shuddering breath. She is about to come apart, he knows.

So he snaps her neck.

He'll deal with her later. Right now he needs a drink.

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**TBC. Please leave some feedback - all kinds are welcome!**


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

**A/N: This was supposed to be a one-shot... oops? Only one more part after this, I think. Thanks for reading and please leave some feedback if you enjoyed!**

* * *

Elijah sits on the couch, Elena's head in his lap, idly stroking her brown tresses with one hand while nursing his scotch - the entire bottle - in the other. He thinks about calling Damon to come and collect Elena, but reconsiders upon reflecting that she might be furious with him for doing such a thing. Better to wait until she wakes and talk to her, if she can manage it. The tears she managed to produce before he knocked her out have dried salty on her cheeks.

He mulls over his own complicated feelings. There is no doubt that he is angry with Elena, but he regrets his moment of murderous rage, the loss of control. He has been working for centuries to temper his emotions and each failure smacks of a step backward in his progress. But he remembers her explanation; Elena had been trying to protect her brother and Kol had simply been unlucky enough to take on the only adversary armed with a weapon powerful enough to destroy him for good. Besides, Elena has lost a brother also, and she is doomed for as long as she lives to the same pain that he feels. At least they have that in common.

Elijah downs the last swig left in the bottle and collects Elena's limp body in his arms. He carries her gently up the stairs and tucks her back into bed, settling on top of the covers next to her. She looks peaceful in her unconscious state, dark eyelashes settled gently on cheeks, like she just might wake up and be the sweet, selfless girl he once knew. He stamps down that thought. _Elena is not Katerina is not Tatia_.

It is a while until she stirs, but he doesn't leave her side. Finally she twitches and gasps as though she is suffocating. She twists her head and he hears the sickening _pops_ as the bones in her neck mend themselves. "Elijah," she croaks.

He is relieved that his name is the first thing on her lips. "I'm here, Elena."

Tears are already flowing freely down her cheeks as she rolls gingerly onto her side to face him. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry about Kol," she tells him. His heart breaks. That's the Elena he remembers. Her brother is dead, he, Elijah, snapped her neck only hours ago and the first thing she does is apologize.

He shushes her gently. "It's alright. I'm sorry I hurt you. I was angry."

"I know," she tells him. "I deserved it."

"How do you feel?" he asks her, though the answer is obvious.

"I hurt. It hurts, everything hurts," she gasps. "Jeremy's dead. I burned my house down. I killed a waitress. You and I -" she catalogues her sins.

Elijah's heart sinks. Of course now that her emotions are back she will want to run back to the waiting arms of her lover. "Do you want me to call Damon?" he asks, heavily.

"Damon?" she asks, as though she hadn't thought of it. "No, no, I can't face him."

He sighs. "Is there anything I can do for you?"

"No," she sniffs and rolls over so her back is to him. "Please just leave. I need to be alone. Don't tell anyone I'm here."

He doesn't dare kiss the tears off her cheek, though he wants to. "Everything will be alright in time, Elena," he tells her gently.

Slowly he descends the stairs, her sobs reverberating loudly in his head.

* * *

As soon as he's gone, Elena breaks down and muffles her face with Klaus' pillow. She feels like she's been struck by lightening, more current flowing through her body than it can possibly tolerate. Every feeling she's ever had, she feels all at once. She would laugh if she weren't crying so hard. Love, ecstasy, tenderness. Fury, grief, fear, and hatred: this latter category all at the forefront. But along with it all is the cathartic release, the devastating flood once the levy is breached Stars explode behind her eyes. Her head pounds mercilessly as though a vengeful god is playing timpani inside it. She wants to die so she can sink into oblivion and never feel again. She wants to run out of the house and into the night and take on the world. She wants to soothe every hurt she's ever caused, she wants to kill everyone who ever wronged her and more innocents besides. Abruptly she feels physically ill and leans over the side of the bed and vomits blood all over the floor before tumbling over the edge on her hands and knees and makes towards the bathroom, trail of blood in her wake.

Her legs shake too much to get up so she crawls towards the bath, still full of tepid bathwater they didn't drain and dips her bloody hands in it before bringing them to her face, water blessedly cool on the inferno that is her skin. The water turns pink as she dips her hands in again. It's not enough so she leans over the tub and submerges her face in the water and lets her lungs fill to quiet her sobs. Her scent is in the water, but mostly it is Elijah's comforting scent that surrounds her, minus the attendant concern and pitying look. She doesn't know quite how long she stays there. Maybe minutes, maybe hours. She isn't capable of coherent thought; there will be plenty of time to despise herself later.

After a time her skin begins to prickle uncomfortably but she doesn't move. The bed is so far away and she is so tired and the water is so cool…

She dreams of her childhood, running barefoot after Jeremy in the yard in a game of tag. She dreams of giggly sleepovers spent with Bonnie and Caroline. She dreams of making the cheerleading squad and she dreams of Stefan and her first true, pure love. She dreams of dancing with Damon. She dreams of Elijah's tender caress. The memories are good but the nostalgia twists like a knife. Then she dreams of every person she's ever lost: her parents, Aunt Jenna, Alaric, Jeremy. Each in turn tell her that she failed them, that she wasn't good enough to save them, that she is a monster now.

This is how Elijah finds her: draped over the bathtub like a rag doll, dark hair floating ethereally around her face. "Christ, Elena," she hears him murmur before pulling her out of the water and shaking her a little. The water sloshes in her lungs and she coughs up great bloody mouthfuls. He dabs at her face with a towel before picking her up as though she weighs nothing. He sets her down somewhere on another clean bed, Rebekah's room, maybe, and is momentarily absent while he rummages in the closet and returns with a dry set of clothing. She doesn't protest as he strips off her wet clothing and helps her into a set of pyjamas.

For an entire week Elena stays stone still in bed, barely moving, not eating, only staring blankly out the window. For those seven days, Elijah frets, sleeping next to her at night, but not touching her. He's afraid if she stays like that any longer she might just desiccate right there in his house. He debates with himself whether it would be morally permissible to compel her to eat or not. The Salvatores are bound to come and break his door down at any moment whether or not they know that Elena is here. He seriously debates calling them, anything to rouse Elena from her stupor.

Finally on the eighth day Elena wakes with the sun and stretches out her creaking limbs. "Elijah," she rasps. "I'm hungry." She turns to him with her big doe eyes peer straight into his. He is so relieved that he laughs in delight, a big booming sound that startles Elena. "What's so funny?" she asks.

"Nothing," he tells her. "Let me go get some blood bags."

She demolishes four bags and then lies back, sated, dabbing daintily at a drop of blood on the corner of her mouth. "Better?" he asks.

She nods and hands him the last empty bag. "Thank you for taking care of me," she tells him.

"You needed me," he says simply

"You could have called Damon to come get me."

"You didn't want me to."

"No," she agrees.

He shuffles down so his eyes are level with hers. After a beat he asks, curious: "Why?"

"Damon will think that just because my humanity is back on things will just go back to the way they were. They won't," she says darkly. "I may be Elena with emotions again, but I'm not _that_ Elena."

"Do you wish you could turn your humanity off again?" he asks.

"No. This sucks, but I was out of control." He senses that she has more to say, so he doesn't interrupt.

"When I my humanity was off you told me that I was still _me_, that I wasn't doing or thinking things I wouldn't have before, and you were right. Caroline annoys me sometimes, and sometimes I just want to slap her perfect face. I had – have -doubts about Damon and me. I think about you in ways I shouldn't. Every time I drink from someone, I want to tear their throat open and take until they die. Is that all we are, underneath it all, Elijah? Monsters? Murderers? Liars?"

She stares at him, unblinking, silently begging for a meaningful answer to her query. He cannot help but reach out and brush her hair behind her ear.

"We are all those things, Elena," he tells her gently. "But can be - we are - more besides. As someone once told me - we cannot cease to believe in love."

The corners of her mouth turn up into what might optimistically be called a smile. Her fingers curl around his and he is overcome with a wave of tenderness that compels him to bring her knuckles to his lips and kiss them gently.

* * *

A few more days pass. Elena eats when Elijah prompts her but mostly just sleeps or sits and stares, lost in thought.

It's a beautiful June day and so he decides enough is enough and they are going to go outside and rejoin the world.

"What do you say we spend some time outdoors today? Somewhere private, quiet. Nothing too strenuous," he proposes.

Elena shrugs apathetically. The pounding in her head has quieted to a dull roar. She is not ok, not by a mile, but a distraction might be what she needs. "If you want."

That's all the encouragement Elijah needs. "Shall I pick something of Rebekah's for you to wear?"

Elena sits up and dangles her feet over the side of the bed. "I'll find something."

Twenty minutes later she's brushed her hair and teeth for the first time in days and is feeling much better for it. Elijah guides her down the stairs, his hand low on her back. They drive in silence for a good fifty miles, Elena gazing glassy-eyed out the window. Every mile further from Mystic Falls feels like relief. There is a whole world without death and memories out there for her.

Elijah pulls off the highway onto a graveled path leading into the trees, foliage getting more and more dense as they get further from the main road. Finally he pulls over and they get out. Elena takes a deep breath of the warm air as Elijah retrieves a blanket from the trunk.

He extends his hand to her and she takes it. They navigate the brush for a while until they break out into a clearing containing a small lake, blue-green water clear and still like a polished sheet of glass. It reminds her of the lake house, and her eyes fill with tears.

He notices her far-away eyes. "I'm sorry. If this place evokes unhappy personal associations, we can leave."

She wipes her eyes hastily. "No. I'm tired of crying," she says resolutely. "Let's stay. I want to swim."

He raises an eyebrow. "You didn't bring a swimsuit."

She shrugs, smiling slightly. "We'll figure something out."

The beach is deserted. Elijah spreads down the blanket and sits down, shucking his jacket and rolling up his shirtsleeves. Elena kicks off her shoes and pads to the shoreline, dipping her toes in the water. It would be cold, for a human, but for her it feels just right.

"What now, beautiful girl?" he calls to her, and she smiles over her shoulder at him before shucking her shirt and shorts. She wades knee deep into the water, just in her bra and panties. She doesn't seem embarrassed and so Elijah doesn't try and hide his gaze as he looks on from the shore. When the water gets to her neck she toes off gracefully and glides backwards into the centre of the lake where she floats still for a time and thinks of the life she might have away from Mystic Falls. She could live as a human for a time, or find a peaceful community of vampires. She could go to college, get a job, see the world. Maybe, if she works hard enough, she can shirk the darkness.

She thinks of Elijah, and something Damon once said echoes in her head. _It's right_, _it's just not right now._ Much as she knows she cares for Elijah, the thought of being with anyone, even him, makes her feel like someone is sitting on her chest. The will to freedom thrums strongly inside her. She might have lost her innocence, but she need not lose her youth.

She plunges under the water, determined to keep heavy thoughts of a long future from her mind. As she surfaces, Elijah is still watching her, leaning back on his elbows. "Aren't you going to come in?" she calls.

"I don't think so," he tells her.

"Why not?" she pouts.

"I'm not fond of the water," he answers truthfully.

"Come on, just get your toes wet."

He sighs and reluctantly unbuttons his shirt. "Klaus was right; I am a lovesick fool," he tells her, and she only smiles knowingly. There are no declarations between them, but no secrets either.

Gingerly, he wades towards her into the water, each step careful.

Elena raises an eyebrow. "Some kind of childhood trauma you aren't telling me about here?"

"Something like that," he growls.

"It's not so bad," she tells him, and locks her arms around his neck, peering shyly up at him from under her long lashes.

"No," he agrees, hands trailing gently down her back. He wants to kiss her, but he doesn't want to take liberties with her in such a state.

She squints at him as though deciphering his thoughts. "It's not taking advantage, Elijah. You make me feel good. I want this," she says simply.

He kisses her gently at first in case she has a change of heart, but when she presses her barely dressed, tan body into his he is hopelessly lost. Her hands drift down to his pants and undo his belt, evidence of his desire for on display. "We are not doing this in the water," he growls into her neck, mouth currently engaged in sucking droplets of water off her heated skin.

"Fine," she shrugs, disentangling herself from him and taking two paces away from him, corner of her mouth upturned. "I guess I'll just go put my clothes back on."

"On the contrary," he tells her, and she shrieks as he flashes over and tosses her over his shoulder, marching them both back to the blanket in the sand. He deposits her there and sets to work peeling her sodden panties down her legs while she unclasps her bra. He kisses the inside of her knee and then starts working his way up, her legs spread open to him in offering. With the first touch of his tongue everything else in her mind is erased and she sinks into blissful oblivion.

* * *

Elena falls asleep in the car on the way home, mouth slightly open, damp hair askew. The sun has set by the time they get back to the manor. She wakes up as he opens the car door to collect her, and gives him a suspicious, bleary-eyed look. "I can walk myself to bed, you know."

"Really? I'm glad to hear it, because I'm a very old man and my back was starting to ache from carrying you around."

She only smiles and follows him into the house and up the stairs where she downs a couple of blood bags before brushing her teeth and getting into bed with him. He spoons her from behind, one hand lovingly tracing patterns on her forearm.

"I have to go, you know," she tells him finally.

"I know you do," he replies softly.

"I don't just mean that I have to resurface in Mystic Falls. I have to _leave_ Mystic Falls."

"Yes," he agrees. "It's the best thing for you."

"What will you do?" she asks, and he knows that going with her isn't an option.

He shrugs behind her. "I'm not sure. Perhaps I'll go to New Orleans and see how Klaus is faring in his attempt to conquer the kingdom."

"That sounds fun," she says, sarcastically.

"New Orleans is a lovely city. You should visit sometime."

"I will," earnestly, this time.

* * *

In the morning Elijah lets her pick a car out of the garage and packs her a duffel with clothes and a few snacks for the road. She has more than a few apologies to make and goodbyes owed before she can leave town, and as much as she dreads them, she knows they're necessary. She promises Elijah she'll stop by again on her way out of town, her last farewell.

She sees him sitting on the front step as she drives up, chin resting in his hand, looking uncharacteristically defeated. She gets out of the car and discovers that she does indeed have more tears left to cry today as she runs into his waiting arms. She cries as rubs her back and whispers soothing words in her ear. "It's alright Elena, you'll be just fine."

"I'm scared," she looks up at him, teary eyed.

He laughs. "It's the world that should be afraid of you."

"I'll miss you," she tells him. His expression becomes serious.

"And I you. But you'll see me again, when the time is right."

She nods and gets up on her tiptoes to kiss him gently. "Goodbye, Elijah. Thank you."

He nods. "Goodbye, lovely Elena. Until we meet again."

He watches as she gets into her car and drives out of sight. He goes inside and picks up the phone.

"Niklaus," he announces, "I'm coming for a visit." Then he mixes a drink and packs his own bag.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4: The Party**

_Many years later…_

"Elijah, brother," Klaus says cheerfully over the phone, "I know you've been having a lovely time slumming it in Bogotá the last few months but your presence is requested in New Orleans."

"Whatever for?" Elijah raises an eyebrow, idly pressing folds into his paper napkin.

"We're having a little party for your birthday. Gifts and dancing and everything."

"My birthday?" Elijah asks, incredulous. "Niklaus, I haven't celebrated a birthday in centuries. You know that."

"Well then, you're overdue," Klaus tells him.

"You aren't plotting my demise, are you?" Elijah asks suspiciously, only half-joking. His relationship with his brother has been much improved now that Klaus is secure in his reign of all vampire-kind, but the petty sibling rivalry is still inevitable.

"Caroline would never speak to me again," Klaus assures him, and Elijah knows that is reason enough to trust him. "She planned the party and will be upset if you don't come."

Elijah rolls his eyes and beckons to the attractive curly-haired waitress at the café he is currently patronizing. "Very well. Only so as not to disappoint your lady-love. The kingdom suffers when the King is upset."

Klaus laughs darkly. "See you soon, then."

Elijah hangs up as the waitress approaches. "Como te llamas?" he asks.

"Claudia," she replies, batting her eyes coyly at him. "Would you like a drink?" she asks in accented English.

"Claudia," he repeats, eyeing the skin on her smooth, tan neck. "I would love a drink. Please, have a seat." She obeys, no compulsion required.

* * *

"Elena!" Caroline squeals, rushing to embrace her friend. "I'm so glad you came."

Elena exhales as Caroline knocks the wind out of her, hugging her tightly. "You sounded so insistent I thought I should come see what all the fuss was about."

"You'll love it here," Caroline raves. Elena smiles, watching Caroline's face light up as she describes the vampire playground. "You're just in time; we're having a big birthday party tonight for… a close friend. I organized it, of course," she says proudly.

Elena smiles. "Your specialty."

"You need to blow off some steam," Caroline tells her, crossly. "You've been spending too much time working at the hospital. I still don't understand how you can be around all of that blood; that's like, Stefan-level masochism."

"It's all about balance, Caroline. I just save it for after work."

"Well tonight, we party. But first, I bought you some stuff to wear. Come see!" Caroline drags Elena up to her bedroom, boxes and shopping bags strewn around her bed. Elena glances around the room, lacking completely in Klaus-like touches.

"You don't share a bedroom with Klaus?" Elena asks.

"Well, of course. But sometimes he's such a brat that I need my own space."

"You two are practically an old married couple," Elena teases.

"Ugh, don't even start on that. He proposes to me at least once a month and I always shut him down."

"You'll give in, one day," Elena tells her.

"Not yet," she maintains, stubbornly. "And what about you? Any hot new guys in your life?"

"Nope," Elena tells her. "Nada."

She hasn't seen Elijah since that day she said goodbye to him decades ago; the possibility of their reunion seems far off and abstract, their time together a pleasant, distant memory. As a personal rule she's committed herself to living only in the present: despite coming to terms (as much as such a thing is actually possible) with the past, she doesn't like to dwell on it. The future, incomprehensively vast and seemingly unlimited, is also a source of anxiety, and so her thoughts never stray past present day.

"Well," Caroline grins, "That's why I bought you these!" She opens one of the smaller wrapped boxes and reveals a sinfully tiny set of black and red panties. "I was afraid you were going to show up in your scrubs."

"Caroline!" Elena says indignantly, dangling them off of one of her fingers, "These are absurd."

"What?" Caroline asks, unabashed. "You might get lucky tonight!"

Elena narrows her eyes suspiciously. "This isn't another one of your attempts to set me up on a blind date with the latest, most eligible vampire-bachelor, is it? Because that didn't go so well the last time."

"Nope, not a blind date, I promise," Caroline avoids her eyes and goes about unwrapping the rest of her purchases. Elena lets it slide, but she knows Caroline is up to something. In any case, she is actually looking forward to the party, having some drinks and some laughs.

* * *

Klaus is waiting personally at the arrivals terminal in the airport as Elijah lands. They shake hands.

"Happy birthday, big brother. You hardly look a day over 600," Klaus smirks.

Elijah rolls his eyes. "I was expecting you to send one of your lackeys to collect me. How kind of you to grace me with your presence."

"I was going to be holding a sign that said E. Mikaelson: Insufferable Git, but I forgot it in my car," Klaus fires back.

The brothers stare each other down for a moment before Elijah breaks into a laugh and embraces Klaus. "It's good to see you, Niklaus."

Elijah follows Klaus to the parkade and loads his bags into the back of Klaus's Maserati. "Caroline's told me she doesn't want you around while she prepares and that we are commanded to make ourselves scarce until later," Klaus informs him.

"And what do you suggest we do?"

"I was actually thinking we could go and box a few rounds, like old times."

"Why is it that the two of us can't have fun without trying to beat the other into a bloody pulp?" Elijah asks, amused.

"Is that a yes?" Klaus asks.

Elijah grins and flexes his muscles. "Of course."

* * *

Caroline sighs contentedly. The preparations for the party have gone off without a hitch and the guests are starting to arrive. The mansion is trimmed edgily in black (Elijah's favorite color, from what she's gathered), lights low, music loud. Humans are distinguishable in the crowd by the red ribbon tied around their wrists. Some of them are willing participants here in the underworld, others compelled to smile and gasp in delight when fed upon. There are humans for every taste, but naturally there is preponderance of scantily clad, wide-eyed young women. Guests may feed, but they may not kill: those are the rules, and Klaus is respected and feared enough that they will be followed. Klaus is by no means reformed but Caroline assures him it's in bad taste to have corpses littering the party.

Next to her, Elena surveys the scene, two ice cubes floating in her glass of vodka. She can already feel the liquor-induced buzz creeping into her cheeks as the music pounds through her. People are obviously having a good time, drinking, dancing, feeding. The energy is infectious in this golden age of the vampire court. "This is great, Caroline, I mean it," Elena tells her.

Caroline grins. "I know! Thanks, Elena."

"So whose birthday are we even celebrating? Anyone I know?" Elena asks.

"Nope," Caroline lies easily. "He should be here any minute with Klaus. Let's go dance!" Elena follows Caroline into a throng of dancing vampires and lets the music overtake her, happy and free.

* * *

"Ready?" Klaus asks as they stand before the double-doors of the mansion.

Elijah can hear the party raging inside. "This is a ridiculous spectacle," he tells Klaus plainly. "A new tie would have sufficed."

"Shut up and enjoy yourself, you fucking prick," Klaus growls, and then throws open the double doors. "The guest of honour has arrived!" he booms out.

Those in the immediate vicinity rush forward to greet them, shaking Elijah's hand and patting him on the back and then moving on to pay their respects to the host. Elijah is well-respected around these parts and it shows; even those few less fond of him wish him well for fear of reprisal. Someone presses a glass of champagne into his hand and he takes a healthy swig.

"Where is our gracious hostess?" Elijah asks, scanning the room for Caroline's blonde head.

"Somewhere in the ballroom, I'd imagine," Klaus tells him. "Let's go find her, shall we?"

They stroll through the mansion and Elijah smiles despite himself. Caroline has outdone herself - everything is quite to his taste, except for the atrocious dance music. "There she is," Klaus points. "Caroline, love! Your future brother-in-law has arrived," he calls out to her.

Caroline rolls her eyes at the younger Original but skips gleefully over, giving Elijah a hug and then fitting herself into Klaus's side. "Do you like it?" she asks eagerly, gesturing around.

"This was quite unnecessary, but lovely all the same. Thank you, Caroline," Elijah says sincerely.

"You should pick out someone to eat," Klaus says wolfishly, gesturing to the gyrating mass of bodies before them. "It's your party, Elijah. Enjoy yourself."

Elijah's tense shoulders relax as he takes another swig of his drink and scans the crowd. "I do appreciate a willing brunette now and then," he says mildly.

"So predictable, Elijah. Go on then," Klaus chides him.

Elijah wanders away and scans the crowd, unfurling his predator instincts as he searches for the perfect meal… or the perfect fuck.

Both, if he's lucky.

Mentally, he eliminates possibilities. _Too fat, too pale, too thin, too blonde, sour looking._ Women file past him, some brushing him gently on the chest or shoulder, their eyes promising him a good time. A few men, also. He smiles politely at them all.

Across the room a mystery brunette dances with her back turned to him. He can't see a red ribbon on her wrist, disqualifying her from the running for good meal, but good fuck is most _definitely_ a possibility. She's wearing a silky black halter-topped romper with a sinfully low back and tiny shorts displaying her long, tanned legs, which end in impossibly tall patent stilettos. Her long hair falls in soft waves down her back and obscures her face from his view. She is dancing with a human, pausing occasionally to take a pull from the oozing wound in his neck. The way she holds her body speaks of ease and confidence, afraid neither of her sexuality nor her predatory nature. She reminds him of someone he once knew -

"For your own sake and hers, I hope you didn't invite Katerina," he says to Klaus, low, angry.

Caroline is smiling at him and he can't figure out why. "I would never invite that skanky ho to anything," she assures him.

"Losing your touch, brother. That's Elena Gilbert," Klaus smiles widely.

In Elijah's head, the room lurches. She turns slightly and he catches a glimpse of her profile, button nose and long eyelashes. Is it her? He can't be sure; he has to see for himself. "Excuse me," he sets down his champagne glass and strides into the crowd. His skin prickles in anticipation as he slides between bodies. "Elena," he says, in a normal tone of voice, hoping she'll hear him without drawing more attention to himself. "Elena," he calls, a little louder.

This time she turns, eyes hooded and dark, lips still stained red. People mill in front of him, blocking him from her view. She looks unsettled but seems to dismiss the phantom voice. The music becomes more mellow and people pair off for a slow dance. A pang of jealousy shoots through him as he watches her appraise the men milling around her.

"Elijah!" A cheery voice booms. "The guest of honour. Happy birthday!" It's Marcel, now reduced to Klaus's lapdog, come to wish him well. Elijah tamps down the urge to rip out Marcel's heart and continue his hunt.

"Marcel," his voice admits tersely. "Thank you."

He glances back over in Elena's direction. She most certainly heard Marcel's loud announcement of him. She turns completely around this time, and her eyes lock with his. Her mouth drops open in a little oh of surprise. Marcel says something to him, he's not sure what, but he looks back at Marcel so as not to be rude. When he glances back a split second later, she's gone.

* * *

Elena presses herself against the wall outside the door to the ballroom, seething. She knows Caroline is about to coming looking for her.

"Wh- jeez Elena!" Caroline shouts as Elena grabs her by her arm and drags her down the hall.

"Caroline Forbes," Elena hisses, "You lied to me! This is _Elijah's_ party?"

"Why are you so mad?" Caroline asks indignantly, "The two of you are friends!"

"I haven't seen Elijah in _years_, Caroline, and the last time I was with him – we have history, ok?"

"I know you have history! Why do you think I even threw this party?"

"You've really got to stop with the matchmaking, Caroline. I told you, when I'm ready –"

"You _are_ ready!" Caroline snaps. For a moment they have a staring contest before Caroline loses and rolls her eyes. "Come on, Elena, just dance with him, ok? He didn't know you were going to be here either. One dance, that's all I'm asking," she pleads. "It really is his birthday. His 1121st, to be exact, and _you_ didn't get him a present." Caroline turns to walk away, smiling mischievously over her shoulder.

Elena lets out a little "ugh" and balls her fists at her sides. One night spent in the same building as Elijah: she can do that, she reasons. She'll say hello and have a polite dance with him and then go back to her single, fancy-free life, far away from dark and handsome former lovers and memories of lives past.

She takes a deep breath and walks slowly back to the ballroom. Elijah is standing, stock-still with his shoulders tensed ever so slightly, obviously perturbed by her appearing and disappearing act.

"Elijah," she calls out to him. He turns to her and she sees relief flood through his eyes. She closes the distance between them.

"Hello, Elena," he says cautiously. "I was afraid you'd gone."

"I'm sorry I bolted. I was just… surprised."

"Already forgiven," he assures her. "It was a surprise for me also. A pleasant one."

"I hear this party is for you," she says, mentally admonishing herself for being unable to come up with anything more interesting to say to him. "Happy birthday."

He purses his lips momentarily. "So it would appear. Thank you."

"Would you like to dance?" she asks.

"I would like nothing more," he extends his hand to her, and she takes it, letting him lead her onto the floor before his hand on her bare back pulls her body gently to his.

"Hello there," he murmurs into her hair, quietly, intimately, his fingers sliding across her skin to disappear under the hem of her shirt, signalling to everyone in the room that she is for him and him alone. She gasps as his fingers settle on the side of her hip. She says his name, simultaneously warning and encouragement.

"Yes, Elena?" he asks, sensing her desire to express herself further.

"I- I always thought that the next time we met, that would be the start of… something. But I always imagined that I would seek you out, when I was ready."

She looks up at his face, seeking confirmation of their previous understanding, painfully aware of just how young she is, comparatively. "But this –" she continues, "this was a surprise."

"You are free to go or stay, as you always have been, lovely Elena. But –" he moves his mouth down to her ear, "I would ask that you consider spending this one night with me."

Her heart thrums erratically in her chest, fear, anticipation, desire, alcohol, all course through her in potent mixture. She looks around the room at the sets of eyes trained interestedly on them – some curious, others lustful, others jealous. What does she have to lose? His touch makes her feel alive. She trusts his assurance of her freedom (though she does not trust herself in this regard). Is she ready to fall?

"Just one night, Elena," he reminds her. "Not forever, unless you want it."

It is his birthday, after all.

Tentatively, her hand reaches up to trace his face, as though she is still unsure that he is real and not simply an apparition. He rests his forehead against hers, and she fully expects him to kiss her. Instead, he ducks his mouth to her ear and inhales deeply. "It's been too long since I had you, Elena," he whispers. No one here deserves to watch this particular show.

She feels a thrill go through her at his words and feels her predatory confidence return. "Would it be rude of us to leave in the middle of your party?"

"Not as rude as what I'm going to do to you later," he replies, nipping discretely at her earlobe. She moans.

"My brother!" Klaus is heard from across the room, eyes twinkling mischievously. Elijah all but growls out loud, the spell between them broken. "It's time us to shower you with gifts!"

Elena exhales the breath she was holding in. "It's alright," she tells him gently. "I'll see you later," she reaches up to kiss his cheek, her lips barely brushing the corner of his mouth, a promise.

Elijah takes a moment to compose himself and then joins Klaus as the guests deliver tokens of their admiration. Priceless art, liquor, faraway silks and trinkets. Caroline hands him a piece of chocolate cake and all he can think about is licking molten drops of it off of Elena's breasts. She sits, watching him from across the room. Her arms are crossed in front of her with a sinful little smile on her lips as she no doubt divines his thoughts.

"Well, brother," Klaus tells him, "I think you can guess what Caroline and I got you for your birthday. I'm sure you'll have plenty of fun with it tonight." Caroline smacks him.

"Indeed. You invited me under false pretences, though."

"Hardly," Klaus scoffs. "It _is_ your birthday. I know we've had our differences, 'lijah, but I've found my peace and it's time you found yours."

Caroline nods. "We just want you to be happy."

"I'm afraid that that is entirely up to _her_," Elijah says mildly, watching as Elena climbs the grand staircase, slowly, assuredly. When she gets to the top she surveys the line of closed doors leading to the bedrooms.

_This one?_ She gestures at the one immediately before her.

Elijah nods ever so slightly to the left and then again in affirmation when she points to the right one. His bedroom. She looks over her shoulder at him and pins him with a seductive glance as she lets herself in, closing the door behind her.

He sighs frustratedly as he surveys all the guests that remain and thinks that eternity has never felt longer.

* * *

The next half hour of pleasantries is excruciating. Finally, in the early hours of the morning, most of the guests begin to filter out. Elijah says goodnight to Caroline and Klaus and makes every effort to climb the staircase at human pace.

He opens the door to his bedroom and surveys the scene. Elena is nowhere to be seen. He calls out her name, once again afraid that she's bolted. For a moment, nothing. Then he feels the telltale _woosh _of a vampire moving at hyper-speed behind him.

He smiles and licks his lips. "Let's play, then," he calls out. She might be young and spry, but he is older, stronger, faster than her. He closes his eyes and listens until he hears her slow heartbeat only a few meters away from him. Then he lunges, but all he catches is empty air. In his moment of confusion, she pounces, slamming him against the opposite wall.

"Booze and lust make you sloppy, Elijah," she says, her hand wrapped around his throat.

"Surely, Elena, you should know by now that letting you catch me is the same thing as me - " he deftly reverses their positions - "catching you."

She pouts prettily. "But how will I give you your birthday gift then?"

"You didn't get me a gift. Poor manners," he tuts, pressing his body against hers.

"I've just thought of something," she tells him.

"And what's that?" he asks, eyes boring into hers.

"If you let go of me, I'll show you."

He is reluctant to relinquish dominance but carefully lets go of her throat, taking a deep breath to reign back in his lust, his curiosity getting the better of him.

Slowly, Elena turns so that her back is to him, and then sweeps her hair off to the side. Her halter is tied in a bow at her neck, a gift wrapped up just for him. He runs the pads of his fingers up her back and tugs gently at the bow and curls his lips in satisfaction as the satin falls quietly away from her skin. She makes a show out of stepping out of the one-piece garment. The low back doesn't allow for a bra, so she is left only a tiny black and scarlet thong.

"I hope you aren't overly fond of your underthings," he tells her, clenching his fists at his sides to avoid ripping them off prematurely.

"Shh…" she tells him, and then she drops to her knees before him. He sorely hopes this means she'll be worshipping his cock in short order. His suspicions are confirmed as she reaches his belt, her palms gently brushing his painfully hard erection through his pants. She unzips him and lets his pants drop to his ankles. "Commando, Elijah?" she comments, eyebrows raised, "How risqué."

"I can think of better uses for your mouth than talking right now, Elena," he warns, one hand caressing her hair.

"So can I…" she whispers, her hot breath tickling him. He hisses as she raises a cool hand to stroke him, first weighing his balls in her hand and then stroking gently up his length, looking up at him coquettishly. Then, much to his delight, she replaces her hand with her mouth, placing soft kisses up his shaft before her tough darts out to lap at the engorged tip. He groans and widens his stance, bracing himself against the wall.

Finally, she takes him into her mouth, and he watches in rapture as his cock disappears agonizingly slowly, inch by inch between her red lips and then down the back of her throat. She whimpers as his hands tangle painfully tightly in her hair and the vibrations go straight to his core. He loosens his grip so that she can pull back for another stroke of her mouth, and then she begins to pleasure him in earnest, delivering a grade-A, porn-star level blow job complete with corkscrew swivel and just the right amount of saliva. Despite his vampiric stamina, the sight is entirely to erotic for him to handle for long.

"Elena - " he manages, a warning, as the pleasure pooling in the base of his spine begs for release. He feels the plaster crack behind him as his throat admits a guttural noise and he spills himself inside her mouth.

She releases him and dabs prettily at her mouth with the back of her hand while he lets out the breath he'd been holding, trying to get his racing heart under control. She stands and starts to unbutton his shirt for him, kissing his chest as his skin is revealed to her. He tilts her chin up to his and kisses her deeply, one hand creeping down her stomach to dip a finger into her soaking panties. She bucks into his hand, seeking more contact.

He breaks their kiss. "Ah ah," he chides. "You had your fun; I am now responsible for your pleasure, and you will only receive fulfillment if you do _exactly_ as I say," he warns.

"What do you want me to do?" she asks, breathlessly.

"Take off your underwear." She complies.

"Go lie on the bed and spread your legs, for me, lovely Elena," he commands, taking a seat in a leather armchair. She climbs onto the bed, lying partially upright supported by throw pillows, and spreads her legs to give him a perfect view of her glistening sex. He feels his own arousal start to build again. "Close your eyes and pleasure yourself, but do not come until I say you may."

She sighs softly as her eyes flutter close and her right hand travels slowly down her body, taking a quick detour to roll her nipples into an aroused state. Her left hand stays at her chest and palms her breast while the other dips between her thighs and starts rubbing a slow circle with two fingers on her clit. He watches, mesmerized, as her fingers dip briefly into her slick opening and spread the moisture around her labia.

"Honestly, Elena, I wasn't sure what this night had in store for me, but I was most certainly not expecting such a _fantastic_ performance of fellatio." She whimpers at the sound of his voice, providing the perfect masturbatory soundtrack. "That was certainly the best birthday present I've ever received."

"You'll have to… send a thank-you note," she manages, now having inserted two fingers into her entrance, eyes still squeezed shut.

"Indeed," he agrees. "When I was dancing with you tonight all I could think about was bending you over the nearest piece of furniture and taking you from behind and tasting your sweet blood."

"Elijah, please," she entreats him, legs shaking, fingers going still to delay the inevitable.

"I didn't say you could stop," he says, sternly. Reluctantly, she sets to work on her clit again.

"I could get used to the sight of you naked and quivering in my bed," he tells her, voice low. "Oh Elena?" he says casually, "You may come."

In another five seconds she cries out and her hips arch off the bed. He watches her expression of pleasure and thinks he has never seen anything more beautiful.

"'Lijah," she whimpers as she comes down, reaching a hand towards him, and he is suddenly struck by how long he has gone without touching her. Too long.

He joins her on the bed and covers her body with his, inhaling her scent deeply. "God, I missed you," he confesses, one hand caressing her face.

"I missed you too," she whispers, kissing him. She nudges his shoulder with the heel of her hand and he lets her roll them over so that he is on his back, resting on his elbows, while she straddles him. He groans as she rubs her wetness against him before reaching between their bodies to guide him inside her. Their rhythm is torturously slow, each reveling in the new connection of their bodies. Her long locks tickle his chest as she leans forward to nuzzle his neck, deeply inhaling his scent, simultaneously hearing and feeling the slow pulse of his blood in his neck.

She nips at him with her human teeth. "Can I- ?" she breathes against him.

Elijah can count on one hand the number of vampires who have ever dared to bite him under such intimate circumstances. Even fewer of them survived to tell the tale. And yet, he tilts his head away from her, an invitation.

Her eyes turn dark as sinks her fangs into him. He groans loudly. With his blood he feels a vital piece of his heart or soul escape him also, a piece that she will guard for as long as he lives.

* * *

Elena wakes in the night. It's still dark but she can see the sky out of the window is a dark indigo, teetering on the brief precipice between dusk and dawn. Elijah sleeps peacefully beside her, one arm draped heavily over her middle.

This is her chance to escape, she knows. She could slip out from under his arm and disappear back into the night and back to her old life. She doubts Elijah would even say anything as she left, despite his own disappointment. The thought of causing him pain weighs heavily on her. Making him wait in interminable limbo, she realizes, is equally unfair. It's all or nothing, right now.

She envisions herself sneaking out of bed, collecting her clothes and slipping out like a thief in the night. In her vision, she stands on the doorstep of Klaus' New Orleans mansion with the vast, bustling world spread out before. She could go back to her apartment in Paris for a while, aimlessly wandering the streets and having lonely cups of coffee in smoky cafés. She could throw herself into the bustling Asian underworld where wrinkled old witches would glare at her and know she was more than just a foreigner. She could go spend some time beach-side on a Greek Island and endure the endless ennui, the lack of purpose. She could go back to the hospital she was working at in Chicago and torture herself a little more with the constant temptation.

Or, she could do nothing at all, roll over and go back to sleep in Elijah's arms, then wake up and make love in the morning.

For the first time in years, the thought of waking up next to someone doesn't seem abhorrent to her. It seems… good, easy, pleasurable, _right_. In this vision of the future, there is no anxiety or anticipation, just a deep sense of contentment. It is as easy as breathing.

She takes a deep breath and lets sleep overpower her once more.

* * *

Elijah wakes to the sun streaming through his sheer drapery. Momentarily, he is confused by his unfamiliar surroundings. Then he remembers - Klaus' phone call, the flight to New Orleans, the party… Elena. If she is here, their bodies are not touching.

He rolls over slowly, afraid that he will find himself alone in bed. He exhales in relief as he sees her, still asleep next to him. He can't help but wake her, cautiously optimistic of her continued presence. "Elena," he says softly, "you're drooling."

She twitches slightly at the sound of his voice, one eye half-opening lazily. "Vampires do not drool," she tells him, self-assuredly.

"Apparently they do," he can't contain a small chuckle, reaching over to wipe the corner of her mouth with the pad of his thumb. She opens both of her eyes and blinks the sleep out of them, propping herself up slightly to assess her pillow. She makes an indignant sound and flips the pillow over, cursing the human habit she never quite left behind.

"You know, pointing out my embarrassing habits isn't helping your case to get me to stay," she grumbles.

"On the contrary; I find them endearing. And you did stay - does that mean…?" he trails off, searching her face for some indication.

She smiles, a good sign. "I've decided to stay, for as long as you'll have me."

He grins, teeth and all, and rolls on top of her to express his joy.

* * *

Three weeks later, after a brief absence to collect her things, she shows back up at the mansion in New Orleans. She knocks and listens for footsteps inside.

"Elena," Elijah smiles lovingly as the dark oak door swings open, "Come in."

Home, she realizes, is not a place.

-fin

* * *

**A/N: Thanks for all the kind words and support guys! This fic started out completely gratuitously and ended in something I am really proud of, so I hope you enjoyed. Please do leave me some feedback here or hit me up at thesofinator on twitter with any comments or whatever else is on your mind. All the best -S**


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